


Close to the Sun

by softraincloud



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hotels, Humor, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Sex, Summer, Whining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26511307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softraincloud/pseuds/softraincloud
Summary: The sun can be breathtakingly beautiful. It can also be hard to escape, extremely annoying, and way too hot.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 108





	1. Catch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fluffy, summery hotel AU~
> 
> I'm indebted to [reticentrabbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reticentrabbit), who was my beta for this and did an absolutely incredible job!

Shouts and laughter filled the hot, salty air, always accompanied by the rushing and breaking of the waves, a steady undercurrent to the ever-changing sounds that could be heard around the beach. Children were splashing each other in the shallow water, some people were swimming farther back where the turquoise hue of the sea merged into a darker blue, others were relaxing on towels and beach chairs set up in the white sand.

Summertime was the busiest season. All of the hotels along the beach seemed to be well-booked, going by the mass of people on the shore and in the water, some still, some moving, lines blurring between the sections of beach belonging to each of the hotels.

Despite it only being noon, the sun was burning down brightly from the cloudless sky. Even with a pair of sunglasses, Sehun had to squint against the blinding light as he stepped outside onto the porch and walked down the small set of wooden stairs. The fine sand was soft under his feet, but it was also scorching hot, so he hurried closer to the water, nearly stepping on an elaborate sandcastle on the way, and sighed with content when his feet sank into the cool, damp strip of sand directly by the sea.

Then he began to walk along the beach, seawater licking at his ankles with every gentle wave. He still had more than enough time before he had to be back for his shift, so he took it slow. Straining himself this early wouldn't do him any good — it was going to be an especially hot day, and he'd have a lot to carry back to the hotel. He'd need to buy a few things for the pantry so the chefs would have something to work with if the food deliveries were delayed again, as well as a bunch of stationery for the office. Hopefully, the bag he'd brought would be enough.

Just when he was in between debating if he should get ice cream on the way and going through the grocery list in his head, a flash of color caught his eye. His steps slowed further.

A little way ahead of him were two men wearing the most eccentric clothes he had ever seen anyone wear in person. One of them was sunbathing on a towel, the other dipping his toes into the sea, but Sehun was certain they belonged together — it wasn't possible for two people dressed like this to coincidentally end up in the same spot on this small island. Even one would have been unusual enough.

It was the bright purple towel in contrast with the sunbathing man's deep green swim trunks and pastel orange shirt that had first attracted Sehun's attention, the pink-tinted sunglasses the icing on the multicolored cake. However, the other man, clad in black trunks with a flowery pattern on them and a translucent cropped top that shimmered in the sunlight, was no less of an eye catcher.

Apparently, the water was too cold for the man's liking. His face scrunched up, and he pulled his foot back, then scurried over to the explosion of colors on the purple towel to plonk himself down on the white towel next to it.

As Sehun passed them, he stole one last glance. It was an image that seemed out of place, that belonged on the cover of a high-end fashion magazine. He wondered in which hotel they were staying. There weren't any in the area that looked expensive enough to accommodate guests like these. Perhaps they were only here for a day trip to the beach.

The small convenience store soon came into sight, door wide open, the wind chimes hanging from the side of its frame dangling and tinkling in the breeze. By this point, his mind was back to groceries.

A while later, he left the store with the bag bulging at the seams and its straps cutting into his shoulder. The sun seemed to be burning down twice as strongly as before, only exacerbated by the thirst scorching his throat. The cool water around his feet as he walked back alongside the beach was both soothing and a tease. His only distraction was trying not to get run over or splashed by the children running toward him and flailing about in the shallow water. The two supermodel-looking men from before were nowhere to be seen, and he found himself somewhat disappointed — the one in the crop top had been especially cute.

Sehun was glad when he finally caught sight of the Summer Magic again. As fast as he could manage with the bag bearing down on his shoulder, he jogged across the hot sand toward the open door that led directly into the café at the back of the hotel. There were people sitting at the table on the porch where he had eaten his breakfast before, but the café itself was empty, save for Sooyoung behind the counter. She was stacking up dirty dishware and only interrupted herself to give him a friendly wave.

Sehun checked the clock; he still had around ten more minutes before his shift officially started. He strolled over to her while slipping off his sunglasses.

“Hey there.” He propped up his arms on the counter and grinned at her. “Got something cold for me? I'm dying.”

She laughed. “Actually, I have some peanut ice cream left over.”

Sehun raised his eyebrows. Peanut ice cream was usually in short supply.

“Left over?”

“Yeah, that one guy was whining to his friend about the scoops not being round enough. So I made him a fresh one, and now I still have the first one sitting around.”

He snorted. “ _Not round enough_? For real?”

“For real. Here, look.” Abandoning the dirty dishes, she pulled out a paper cup from the freezer for Sehun to examine. The two scoops inside were unshapely but undeniably generous.

“Looks fine to me,” he said and took the cup as well as a spoon from the cutlery rack on the counter. “What an idiot. Thanks though!”

“No problem. Don't let the managers catch you taking that inside.”

He shrugged. “I bet Joohyun would let it slide. And Junmyeon wouldn't even mind.”

The look of mild amazement Sooyoung gave him was one he often saw on his coworkers' faces whenever he talked so casually about or with their superiors. He couldn't say he didn't enjoy their reactions, but even without them, he wouldn't address either of their managers formally. The only occasions on which he did were in the presence of guests. At any other time, it was impossible for him to think of Joohyun and Junmyeon as bosses first and parental figures second — impossible to think of them as anything other than the kind owners of a hotel with twenty rooms and no café who had hired an eighteen-year-old with bad grades and no job experience, given him a place to live, and reassured his parents they'd take good care of him. No matter how many more rooms and cafés would be added to the Summer Magic in the future, Sehun wouldn't view Joohyun and Junmyeon any differently than he'd always had. The kick he got out of scandalizing new coworkers was merely a bonus.

Sehun left the café and entered the hotel lobby, spooning up his blissfully cold ice cream, bag still slung over his shoulder. It was a promising start into the workday, he thought.

A flash of color; green, orange, pink, purple. He almost dropped his ice cream cup when he laid eyes on the two beach models from earlier waiting in line behind a woman who was talking to Jongdae at the reception. There was no mistaking them — chances that someone else on the island (or anywhere in the world, really) was wearing those clothes were virtually nonexistent. From this distance, Sehun could make out Gucci logos everywhere.

His feet were carrying him toward the reception on autopilot; he knew he was staring but didn't quite know how to stop. Like before, the man dressed in flashy colors had naturally caught his eye first. His sunglasses were now perched in his bleached hair, revealing a pair of almond eyes with puffy lower eyelids, narrowed in a skeptical frown, and his thin lips were pressed together in a strict line. Then Sehun's gaze fell on the other man, and not even the most jarring color combination could have drawn it away then.

He'd thought the man was cute — he'd been wrong. The man was stunning. Not only that, the closer he was, the more beautiful he appeared to become. Sehun was beginning to worry what would happen if he kept moving, what would happen if he came too close. It seemed dangerous, like flying too close to the sun.

With the garish light of the actual sun filtered through windows and curtains, everything was so clearly visible. The man's tan skin was glowing, his full lips a deep red from the heat, fluffy, brown hair ruffled rakishly by the sea breeze. With his slightly hooded eyes and striking cheekbones, there was a regal air about him; and with that jawline and those body proportions, he _had_ to be a model. There was a bit of a pout to his lips as he said something to the other man, a crease between his elegantly curved eyebrows.

When passing them, Sehun heard a snippet of the other man's response, just enough to pick up on his heavy accent.

“… _every single temple_ in Qingdao, remember? I thought we discussed this…”

The moment before Sehun reached the reception and tore his eyes away with an effort, they flitted up from the man's mile-long legs to his chest, and through the transparent crop top he caught a glimpse of a singular piercing on the man's right nipple. Sehun almost did a double take but managed to restrain himself.

He had to change. Yes, his shift was about to start. That was what he had come to the lobby for in the first place.

He would have attended to the two men himself, but he could hardly do that while dressed in shorts and an unbuttoned, decidedly not Gucci shirt. And so he instead rounded the reception counter and slipped through the door behind it, then walked a few steps through the small corridor until he reached the only two doors in it, one on either side. Still lost in thought, he opened the one to his right and found the staff room empty. He only remembered that he had a cup of ice cream in his hand when he almost spilled it trying to drop the heavy bag onto a chair.

He quickly changed into the neat but modest hotel uniform, occasionally pausing for a hasty spoonful of ice cream. As soon as he was done, he heaved the bag into the equally desolate managers' office across the corridor, where he left the stationery, and finally stepped back into the lobby, not without carefully straightening his tie and name tag first. It felt like a wasted effort when he saw the elevator doors across from the reception close on a flash of green and orange.

Sehun shut the door behind him, slightly disappointed at the missed opportunity.

“Hi,” Jongdae greeted him from where he stood behind the computer screen. He hadn't lost his professional smile, but there was a subtle strain to it that told Sehun he was ready to go home.

And so it came as no surprise that Jongdae, upon seeing the bag slung over Sehun's shoulder, readily offered to take it to the kitchen for him so Sehun could take over his shift.

“Fair trade,” said Sehun, and Jongdae shot him a relieved grin.

“Sorry — I'll hang around to chat next time, but I'm fried right now, I need food and a nap so bad I wanna cry.”

“Don't cry, just go. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Jongdae took off, and Sehun settled in behind the screen in his stead.

A few guests were passing through the lobby or playing with their phones on the couch in the corner, but none of them looked like they would come over. There usually wasn't too much of a rush at the reception, unless there was a batch of new arrivals all coming in all at once, and so Sehun tended to take his time with the things he needed to do. Today, he immediately opened the logbook, scrolling through until he found the entry he was looking for.

Huang Zitao and Kim Jongin had checked in this morning at eight, two separate rooms, 68 and 88, paid with one credit card.

That had to be them. The only new arrivals this day so far. Sehun was giddy with delight. Not only were the two staying on the island, but by some miracle, they had chosen the Summer Magic. It was certainly not their usual kind of clientele — they'd had the occasional well-off or fancy person, but never anyone remotely like that. Sehun checked the entry again. They would be staying for two whole weeks too. Something told him this was going to be a special time.

He looked pensively at the names. Huang Zitao had to be purple towel guy; the Chinese-sounding name matched perfectly with his accent. So the one that had knocked the breath out of Sehun's lungs was Kim Jongin.

Content with the new information, Sehun proceeded to go through the rest of the logbook, doing his best not to let his thoughts wander off too far. But he couldn't help wondering whether he would see Kim Jongin again before his shift was over. Or, even better, after it was over. There was no way he could flirt with the man during work after all. Although he could of course make friendly contact. That was within bounds, wasn't it? The fact that the two men didn't share a room boded well, as it made it likely they weren't a couple…

“Good morning, Sehun.”

He flinched and reflexively closed the logbook. Talk about perfect timing. Junmyeon was smiling brightly at him and his tone had been cheery, and yet his mere presence made Sehun feel guilty, as if he'd been caught doing something forbidden. Not for the first time, he wondered if it was possible to summon Junmyeon with unprofessional thoughts alone.

“Uh… I got the stationery,” Sehun told him, hoping he didn't look unfocused.

“Thanks.” Junmyeon came behind the counter, his smile now gentler. “Is everything all right?”

Apparently, Sehun did look a bit unfocused, then. He tried an innocent smile, which was probably even more suspicious, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. “Sure. Uh, I put it in you guys' office, just so you know.”

“Wonderful.” Junmyeon tilted his head to the side. “Did you not get enough sleep?”

Sehun had slept like a log, but he gladly took the excuse. “Yeah, that's it.”

Luckily, a guest was approaching the reception, so even if Junmyeon had meant to probe further, he was forced to leave their conversation at that. He gave Sehun another smile and his arm a fond pat before disappearing through the door behind the counter.

It seemed like that was the extent of Sehun's luck for the day; soon after, Junmyeon took over at the reception and Sehun was sent to the kitchen to help, since their dishwasher had called in sick unexpectedly. When he finally finished cleaning all the dishes from breakfast, their food deliveries arrived, perfectly punctual, and he spent the rest of his shift hauling boxes and restocking the pantry. That naturally meant he didn't get another glimpse of either Huang Zitao or Kim Jongin.

Still, Sehun thought as he finally took off his sweaty uniform at the end of the day, he'd already been lucky enough overall. There was always tomorrow — in fact, there would be several more tomorrows before Kim Jongin left this place again. Plenty of time.

The next morning, Junmyeon was drinking coffee.

Sehun's shift started at an ungodly hour, but he'd come in early because he knew from experience that he needed some extra preparation time when it was his turn with the breakfast buffet. About to enter the staff room, he had peeked through the half-open door to the managers' office and caught a glimpse of Junmyeon sitting at his desk and sipping from his mug, coffee pot in front of him.

If Sehun hadn't been in charge of the buffet, he would have gone in there and asked what was wrong — Junmyeon only ever drank coffee when he wanted to indulge himself, and that was only if something particularly stressful had happened. It was still early, so Sehun assumed it was something from the day before. He decided to ask about it later.

He prepared the buffet as usual, laid the tables, set out the food, made sure the drink dispensers were filled, and eventually opened the door to greet the first guests with a bow at seven o'clock sharp. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Around eight o'clock, more than half of the tables were occupied but the room was still quiet, wrapped in the drowsy mumble of the morning hours. Sehun flitted back and forth between kitchen and breakfast room, refilling every toast rack and cutlery basket as soon as it threatened to run out. He kept moving at all times so he wouldn't fall asleep standing by the food tables. The routine of it lulled him into a comfortable sense of monotony that didn't require much brainpower and made time pass quickly.

“It's _gross_ , that's what it is.”

A whiny voice to his right pierced through the general noise level and shook him out of his stupor. He looked over to where it had come from and saw Kim Jongin and Huang Zitao sitting at a table in the middle of the room, in a sleeveless denim top and a lime green silk shirt respectively. Sehun had to have been really out of it not to have noticed those two coming in.

Then his surprise about who had spoken faded, and he slowly began processing _what_ had been said.

“They're so greasy they're dripping,” Jongin whined and poked an egg roll on his plate with a chopstick. “I can't eat that, Tao!”

Zitao was chewing on his own egg roll, unperturbed. “Get less greasy ones, then. Mine are just fine.”

“I think there's a stain on my spoon too.” Jongin was flat-out pouting now. “I wanna go eat somewhere else.”

Zitao grumbled something Sehun couldn't hear, but it made the pout on Jongin's face deepen into a scowl.

Then Jongin looked up and his eyes met Sehun's, and Sehun realized he stood rooted to the spot, watching the scene before him unfold. He was also frowning so hard that his eyebrows were a blurry fringe sitting at the top of his field of vision.

As quickly and inconspicuously as possible, he turned away and walked over to the buffet. However, he was unable to force the frown off his face. What was that guy's deal? Not that Sehun was surprised that someone who dressed like that was eccentric, but this was a bit much. Neither of their chefs was fond of using excessive amounts of oil; if anything, Sehun would have expected a complaint about the food being too dry. He casually inspected the egg rolls while refilling the pancakes next to them. If this was Kim Jongin's idea of greasy, something he'd call dry would probably suck any moisture from a person's body within an instant upon ingestion. Was he on some sort of special diet? Perhaps that was how he maintained his figure.

Thankfully, the rest of the breakfast proceeded in relative peace. Sehun almost forgot about the little incident until Jongin rose from the table with an unnecessary amount of chair scraping and dish clattering and strutted out of the room, a calmly sauntering Zitao in tow. Some people turned to look after them, and the dark fringe decked Sehun's view again.

He really should have known something was off that day, right when he'd seen the cup of coffee in Junmyeon's hand. Coffee was a bad omen, and after that buffet shift, Sehun was craving some himself.

The door to the managers' office was still ajar by the time he walked into the corridor behind the reception, and he decided to spend his ten-minute break there instead of in the staff room (given the managers didn't throw him out).

Joohyun was sitting at her desk, long hair tied back in her usual ponytail, a few stacks of paper in front of her. The empty cup was still on Junmyeon's desk, next to an almost empty coffee pot. Sehun walked over, poured the rest of the coffee into the cup, and downed it in one big gulp. Then he shuddered because it was way too bitter.

“Ew. Morning,” he murmured and put the cup back on the desk with a clonk and a grimace.

“Morning.” She transferred a batch of papers from one stack to another with one hand and handed him a chocolate bar from her desk drawer with the other, eyes focused on the papers. “Did the buffet give you a hard time?”

“It's fine. Just a couple annoying guests, nothing unusual.” He took a seat on Junmyeon's office chair and tore the wrapper. “What was up with Junmyeon earlier?”

“Ah, he was a bit nervous about one of yesterday's new arrivals. Some rich people, I think.”

Sehun perked up. There hadn't been many new arrivals yesterday, let alone rich ones. “Were they the ones wearing Gucci?”

“Could be. I'm not sure though, I may have zoned out. He talked about it for at least ten minutes.”

Sehun snorted. “Damn. Must have really bothered him.”

He spent the rest of his break nibbling on the coconut-flavored chocolate bar and watching the paper stacks shrink and grow.

Two hours later, Sehun was pulled from the reception again, this time to help out at the café.

“I would give a hand myself,” said Junmyeon, “but I think I'd better take over at the reception.”

Sehun agreed wholeheartedly. The last time Junmyeon had ‘given a hand’ at the café had ended in a bunch of mixed up orders and two broken cocktail glasses.

When Sehun got there, he found a distressed Sooyoung alone behind the counter, in front of which was a queue that went out the open side door onto the porch.

“Thank goodness you're here,” she muttered, and he gave her a thumbs up.

They often did this during busy hours: Sooyoung would take and serve the orders, and Sehun would prepare them. They were an efficient team and had eradicated the queue within minutes.

In the middle of a celebratory fist bump, Kim Jongin and Huang Zitao entered. The latter was still wearing his green shirt from breakfast, now accompanied by bright yellow trunks; Kim Jongin, meanwhile, had traded his denim top for a lavender shirt, unbuttoned so it showed off his toned stomach and the small golden stud in his right nipple.

Sehun stiffened as soon as he laid eyes on them. The breakfast buffet had left a sour aftertaste, and he wasn't sure how to act. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Kim Jongin just wasn't a morning person. In any case, Sehun was glad he wasn't the one taking the orders. He watched the pair walk up to the counter and wondered whether the singular nipple piercing was supposed to be edgy, or whether it was part of a realm of fashion he didn't comprehend. The realm where pairing orange, green, and purple was a good idea.

“I'll have a frappé coffee,” said Zitao. Then he elbowed Jongin, who had been staring morosely at the drink menu, and received a glare in return. Zitao wasn't discouraged.

“Come on, there's gotta be something you like. If it helps, it's my treat.”

Apparently, it helped. Jongin kept up his glare some more, then he huffed. “Whatever. Peanut ice cream.”

“How many scoops, sir?” Sooyoung asked, but he had already turned around and marched outside.

Zitao shrugged. “Make it two.”

“Certainly,” she said politely. “It will be ready in just a moment.”

Sehun was already working on the frappé. The question he had asked himself during the buffet cropped back up — what _was_ Kim Jongin's deal?

With the frappé finished, Sehun opened the freezer and had just dug the scoop into the peanut ice cream when he noticed Sooyoung was trying to catch his attention with frantic waves and snaps of her fingers under the counter. He waited until she dismissed the customer she was talking to with a friendly smile and turned her head toward Sehun.

“ _Round_!” she hissed. “Make sure they're round!”

He nodded, although he was confused. He wondered why she felt the need to stress that. Then it suddenly hit him.

He carefully placed two scoops into the paper cup, as close to perfectly round as he could manage. During the next customer-free interval, Sooyoung grabbed the two tablets with all the unserved orders. Before she could scurry off to distribute them, Sehun stepped closer and asked in a low voice, “Is that guy…?”

She understood right away and cast him a wry smile. “Oh yeah. That's him.”

At that very moment, Sehun realized he should have known there was a catch. There was also little doubt now as to what precisely the catch was: Kim Jongin was an asshole.


	2. A Special Time

It turned out what Sehun had witnessed so far was merely Kim Jongin's warm-up period. Sehun wasn't even trying to seek him out anymore, and yet he couldn't seem to avoid him. Throughout the rest of the day, he heard Jongin moan at Zitao about virtually everything a person could take issue with, from unsatisfactory food to the lack of a gym to water temperature. And from what Sehun gathered, it was usually the hotel's fault and Jongin would rather go somewhere else. It also seemed like Zitao never relented, because it never stopped.

There was some leftover hope in Sehun's mind that Jongin was simply having a bad day. However, that went right out the window the day after, when he got an earful of whining first thing in the morning while Jongin and Zitao were waiting for the elevator.

“Man, I'm glad I didn't have to do buffet today,” Sehun grumbled once the elevator doors closed behind the pair.

Jongdae, who was typing away on the computer beside him, heaved a dramatic sigh. “Speaking of. That guy in the crop top who just got on the elevator was the one you told me about, wasn't he? You were right. He kept complaining to his boyfriend about freaking everything this morning.”

“I don't think that's his boyfriend. But yeah, that's the one.”

Jongdae slammed a hand onto the keyboard and turned to Sehun, in full vent mode. “It was so annoying!” he wailed, his voice ringing through the thankfully empty lobby. “The napkins weren't perfectly folded, the drinks weren't refilled quickly enough — and I swear I never let anything go below a quarter — and then also stuff like too many people being there, and what am I supposed to do about that? Although he never complained to me directly, which was the other weird thing, like, I'd try to accommodate him if he told me what he wanted, but he just kept whining to his— his partner or whatever, and I didn't know what to do!”

Sehun was pursing his lips to hide a grin. Jongdae could probably outwhine Jongin if he tried, or at least put up a valiant fight; he was definitely louder than Jongin, but as opposed to him, Jongdae had legitimate complaints, so he was much more bearable.

“Don't worry about it,” Sehun said. “You're fine. You just can't please some people.”

Jongdae huffed as he reopened a program he had closed with his keyboard slam. “I know. But it's like he wouldn't even have wanted me to.”

In a way, Sehun was glad he wasn't the only one put off by Jongin's attitude. Even Baekhyun, one of their baristas and usually an almost annoyingly positive person, didn't have anything nice to say.

“I kept an eye out for the guy you and Sooyoung talked about,” he told Sehun when they both spent their break in the staff room, “and yeah. I heard him rant about how we don't offer lunch and dinner. But he should probably be glad? 'Cause the half hour before that, he was complaining about how much breakfast sucks. And also about how there's no Jacuzzi in his room.”

Sehun could just hear that nasal, whiny voice yammering about the substandard catering and bathroom equipment, and the mere thought of it made him scowl.

He badly wanted to know how Huang Zitao could stand it. The man had to have an angel's patience, or perhaps he'd built up some sort of immunity; Sehun figured it helped that Zitao often wore headphones (which didn't curb Jongin in the slightest). He seemed utterly unbothered by Jongin's complaints, either ignoring them or brushing them off. Sometimes Sehun even observed a twitch of Zitao's lips, but that was probably because of an amusing audio book or a fond memory he was wallowing in to avoid having to listen to his annoying friend. The worst Sehun had seen him do was roll his eyes.

One day during a slow hour, Jongdae was chatting with Sehun at the reception after finishing his shift, and the by then infamous Gucci couple arrived with the elevator. They headed straight for the café, and of course, Kim Jongin was whining.

“I'm telling you, it wasn't cleaned at all! The bed sheets were still all rumpled and everything. Come back up and check if you don't believe me. It's such a tiny room anyway…”

As soon as they were out of sight, Jongdae made a doubtful noise. “I don't know, man. Minseok is on duty today.”

Sehun gasped. “No way. Everything is always pristine when he cleans.”

“I know! Maybe he just hasn't gotten to that room yet?”

“Maybe. There's no way he'd leave a messy bed.”

A few minutes later, Sehun was stapling a couple of documents and Jongdae just about to leave, Minseok came breezing into the lobby from the staircase, whistling a cheerful tune.

“Finished for the day,” he let Jongdae and Sehun know with a grin.

“Hold it right there!” Jongdae yelled, making Minseok halt and Sehun drop the stapler. “Have you been slacking off today?”

Minseok clutched his chest, feigning offense. Although Sehun wasn't certain it was entirely feigned. “Me? Never! Why do you ask?”

“Room number… uh…” Jongdae pulled up the guest register and scrolled through it.

“88,” Sehun supplied helpfully. Jongdae stopped scrolling and gave him a sidelong glance.

“Okay. Number 88 had a complaint about rumpled bed sheets or something.”

“Hm. But number 88 had the _don't clean_ -sign out.”

“Wha—” Jongdae blinked, looking back and forth between Sehun and Minseok. “How do you guys remember stuff like that?”

Sehun's face warmed up, although it wasn't like he'd memorized the number; it had simply stuck with him since he'd first looked it up. Then again, it was a fairly easy number to remember.

Minseok shrugged. “I thought it was funny how 87, 88, and 89 all had the sign out today. So I remember.”

Jongdae gave a huff. “So the guy forgets to put away the sign and then blames the staff for it. How long is he here again?”

“Like, one and a half more weeks,” Sehun mumbled. Of course he remembered that too.

The Summer Magic had seen its share of difficult guests. However, Kim Jongin was different. He managed to affect everyone on a strange level, and Sehun soon thought he had figured out why: despite Jongin's incessant whining, he never made any official complaints to the staff. It was that more than anything that drove everyone insane.

Several of the others had already tried to approach him directly with polite inquiries about whether he needed anything, or if this or that wasn't to his liking. However, he insisted there was no problem every time. It was as if he was mocking them, as if he was telling them the hotel was so below his standards it would be a waste of time to point out its flaws.

Once, Sehun witnessed such an attempt in person. He was enjoying his lunch on the porch when Jongin and Zitao walked into the café from the lobby and borrowed a beach towel each from the counter. Zitao ordered something while Jongin plonked himself on a chair wordlessly.

The hope that they would leave as soon as Zitao's tiny cup was emptied was the only thing that kept Sehun in his seat throughout the next minutes of Jongin moaning to Zitao about how stiff and frayed and ugly his towel was. He wasn't speaking particularly loudly, but without any distractions, Sehun was unable to tune it out. Judging from Baekhyun's face as he rearranged the snacks in the display case, he was listening as well. The unrelenting sun sneering from the sky made it a downright trial of endurance.

Thankfully, Sehun's hunch had been correct, and they stood up soon after. Zitao left the café first; meanwhile, Jongin was still squeezing his feet back into his espadrilles. When he got up, Baekhyun leaned over the counter with a fetching smile.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Jongin turned and shuffled closer to the counter. Their voices were too quiet for Sehun to hear at this distance. He watched Baekhyun's smile falter, then immediately reappear. Baekhyun nodded and bowed in Jongin's direction as he followed Zitao out the door.

Sehun got up and walked over to Baekhyun, casting him a questioning look.

“I asked him if the towel I gave him was all right and if he wanted a different one,” Baekhyun told him. “He said no, it was fine. Please tell me I'm not crazy — you heard him go on about the ugly towel too, right?”

Most of the staff seemed to agree that this wasn't just an average asshole guest. This was psychological warfare. Sehun had always rolled his eyes when Junmyeon had harped on about how complaints were a blessing that allowed one to resolve issues; now he thought he finally knew what Junmyeon had meant.

There were differing levels of concern about the matter among the staff members. Some of the others shared Sehun's irritation (though probably not his disappointment), some shrugged it off or hardly noticed. However, no one took it to heart more than Junmyeon.

Sehun knew all too well that Junmyeon wanted nothing more than to please his guests. A guest constantly complaining but never giving them a chance to improve was something like Junmyeon's personal nightmare. Seeing him fretting and chugging coffee after coffee over this was what pissed Sehun off the most.

Sehun himself never tried approaching Jongin, no matter how much he had to listen to him whine. Instead, he made sure to scowl at him with every ounce of contempt he could muster whenever Jongin looked his way. To his delight, he discovered it appeared to fluster Jongin; he often did a double take or stared a bit when Sehun glared at him. _Fuck being polite_ , he told himself. _It wouldn't change anything anyway._

By the end of the week, Sehun felt like a dog trained to wince in terror at a certain sound. He could recognize Jongin's petulant whine within a millisecond, followed by a reflexive scowl overtaking his face.

No one seemed surprised when the topic came up at the monthly staff meeting.

“We only wish to remind you,” Joohyun said, Junmyeon nodding furiously beside her, “to be especially attentive with these two guests. Know that you have permission to do anything it takes to satisfy them.”

She raised her eyebrows at Sehun and Baekhyun, who instantly stopped snickering and bowed their heads ruefully.

“Anything _within_ the hotel guidelines.”

“Yes,” Junmyeon chimed in. “Please remain friendly and continue to try hard, no matter what. If anyone has any ideas on how to deal with this, please let me know.”

Sehun pursed his lips. Junmyeon had to be pretty desperate if he was asking for help.

After the meeting ended, Sehun hung around in the office for another while. He had to make sure Junmyeon cheered up at least a bit before leaving. Joohyun was sitting in her desk chair, Junmyeon pacing about the room restlessly.

“You never know,” he murmured. “He's rich, he surely has connections… he might spread rumors about us…”

“Ah, I doubt he cares enough to spread rumors,” said Joohyun. Sehun could tell she was tired of the topic but just as clueless as everyone else as to how to resolve the issue.

“Definitely not,” he agreed. “Plus, he's not chasing away guests or anything. He's annoying, but at least he's not throwing public tantrums or stuff like that. Worst case scenario, he leaves a one star review on Google Maps or something.”

He quickly regretted having added that last part. Mentioning reviews or online presence would no doubt awaken the marketing monster inside Junmyeon.

“Oh no, I hope he doesn't.” Junmyeon heaved a dramatic sigh and ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “We don't have many reviews on there, and one bad rumor can be enough to kill a business, especially a small one like ours.”

Sehun tried to fix his mistake. “He most likely won't even bother to write—“

“Did you know that one guest who had a bad experience is much more likely to write a negative review than all the satisfied guests to write a positive one? A dissatisfied customer will tell up to ten people about their experience, and these people will then—“

“Junmyeon, please,” Joohyun cut in. Junmyeon fell silent, and Sehun was overcome by a rush of gratitude toward her. She knew better than anyone how to talk Junmyeon down when he was getting dangerously close to a meltdown.

She stood and walked over to him to pat his shoulder. “Overthinking this will do nothing,” she said gently. “Let's just remain calm and focus on doing our best, hm? That's all we can do for now.”

During a shift at the reception that overlapped with Jongdae's, Kim Jongin walked into the lobby alone.

Huang Zitao and Kim Jongin usually came in a pair; however, there were a few instances where Sehun had seen one of them alone. Apparently, Jongin needed Zitao for his whining, because whenever he was on his own, he was just sitting around quietly and keeping to himself. Someone who had never witnessed him opening his mouth might have mistaken him for a peaceful man.

He didn't look so intimidating now, either; he glanced over at the reception, then at the entrance to the café. Sehun was on the phone and there was a queue, so he couldn't watch him for long.

By the time he hung up and politely beckoned the next guest in the queue to come forward, Jongin had taken out his cell phone and was typing something. He stood just close enough but also far away enough from the reception that Sehun wasn't sure if he was lining up or not.

The last person in the queue stepped forward. Sehun looked to his left and saw that Jongdae was free by now. So Jongin was probably not lining up.

Sehun patiently spelled out the Wi-Fi password (for at least the tenth time that day), since the guest had apparently missed it on the leaflet in her room as well as the numerous signs throughout the hotel. She smiled gratefully and took her leave, and then Kim Jongin stood in front of him.

“Hello,” he said.

At that moment, Sehun realized this was his first time actually talking to Jongin. Just about a week ago, he would have been excited. Now, he only used his small height advantage to glare down at Jongin icily.

“Hello,” he echoed mechanically. Good, Jongin looked a little uncertain. Sehun was positive he hadn't yet seen the black Gucci shirt with golden stripes Jongin was wearing. In fact, he was positive he hadn't seen any piece of clothing on Jongin or Zitao twice. How many outfits did those guys have?

“There's a problem with my room.”

Jongin's eyes were boring into Sehun's, dark and smoldering. It wasn't a very effective glare. Sehun was definitely winning. He wished he could turn off the part of his brain that still felt the need to remind him that Jongin was gorgeous.

“I'll get the manager,” Sehun said curtly, turned around, and left through the door behind the reception.

Joohyun was in the managers' office and readily hurried to the front desk. Sehun went to the staff room for a drink. He stayed there until he heard the door to the managers' office open and close, then he returned to the lobby. Jongdae looked up from the computer screen, and his face lit up.

“There you are!” He dissolved into giggles. “Man, you should have seen the guy's face when you walked out on him like that. That was priceless!”

Sehun frowned, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, you just strutted off, and he was so confused! He kinda looked like a kicked puppy, it was almost sad. He was actually sort of understated when he talked to Manager Bae. I think you threw him off.”

Sehun couldn't help the dash of gloating gratification that warmed his chest. Although _kicked puppy_ made the guy sound much too pitiable. It served him right. “I didn't really feel like talking to him, and he was probably gonna ask to speak to our manager anyway. Plus, you were free before, so why didn't he just go to you?”

“Dunno. Looked like he was doing something on his phone, maybe he was distracted. Anyway, now that you're back, I'm gonna go have a look at room 88 — apparently, the window doesn't close properly.”

Sehun gave a whistle. “Wow, we're allowed to fix something.”

“Yeah. Watch it be another case of _Minseok left my bed sheets rumpled_.”

Surprisingly enough, it turned out that the window frame was actually broken.

The next day, Sehun arrived at two pm for the afternoon shift and was greeted with the unusual sight of Huang Zitao dragging Kim Jongin toward the reception by the arm. The two appeared to be arguing heatedly, but Sehun couldn't hear them over Jongdae screaming the Wi-Fi password at the top of his lungs at an old lady who was leaning over the front desk with both hands behind her ears.

“IT'S _AVOCADO_! A-VO-CA-DO!”

Sehun grabbed a notepad from the counter and chucked it to Jongdae so he could give his vocal cords a rest and then went to the staff room to change.

“Thanks,” said Jongdae when Sehun came back out. The lobby was empty again, save for two girls lounging on the couch. “Don't know why I didn't think of writing it down.”

“No prob. What was the drama about this time?”

“Oh, that. Kim Jongin changed rooms.”

“ _What_?” Sehun hastily pulled up the list on the computer to check, and sure enough, Kim Jongin was now registered under room 94.

“Apparently, his neighbors are really loud, so he requested a new room. Well, that Huang Zitao guy did most of the talking for once. Kim Jongin was just kinda standing off to the side and sulking.”

Sehun snorted. “Great. First he makes us fix his room, then he wants a new one.”

Jongdae shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, we would've had to fix that window sooner or later.”

“True,” Sehun mumbled, “but still.”

After all, this wasn't about broken window frames and loud neighbors. This was about principles.

Sehun was standing behind the counter at the café, and Kim Jongin was giving him an awful lot of opportunities to glower at him across the room where he was sitting by himself, munching on one of his two blueberry muffins. His shirt (crimson today) was unbuttoned again, and his piercing glinted ruby red.

Four more days, and one of them would be over soon. That wasn't too long.

Shortly after Jongin had finished the muffin, Huang Zitao came waltzing in and sat down across from him. Perhaps Sehun was projecting his own sour mood onto others, but Zitao looked somewhat harried to him.

Sehun was about to shift his attention to something else — he really didn't need to hear any more conversations between these two, and Jongin would be too occupied to notice Sehun's glares anyway — but then he saw Jongin take a bite from his second muffin and make a face. The music Sooyoung was blasting from the speakers overpowered his voice, but the message was abundantly clear from his expressions. He pointedly dropped the muffin back on the plate and pushed it away from him.

Sehun frowned. That was strange. Those muffins had come from one packaging and were the exact same kind. If Jongin was as disgusted by the taste as his demeanor let on, why had he virtually inhaled the first one? Was there a spoiled blueberry in this one?

Huang Zitao rolled his eyes. Things were getting serious.

Realizing he had planned not to pay attention to the pair anymore, Sehun tore his gaze away. A few guests had stepped up to the counter, and he was glad for the distraction. Sooyoung jotted down the orders and handed him the paper, since there were a lot, and he got started.

At some point, Zitao came over to order a skinny latte and a Blue Lemonade cocktail. Mixing cocktails was Sehun's favorite part of working at the café, so his spirits were lifted a little. Who he was mixing for didn't matter. Because of the stifling heat that filtered in through the open doors, shaking the drink was an arduous task, but he wiped the sweat off his brow and powered through.

There were several more orders, and he got into a good working rhythm. He only spared one or two glances at Kim Jongin, enough to assess he was in the middle of complaining about the drinks that were now in front of them, but that wasn't exactly unexpected.

What was unexpected was Huang Zitao slamming his hand on the table and yelling through the café, “WAITER, THE COFFEE IS COLD AND THE COCKTAIL IS WARM, WE'D LIKE TO HAVE FRESH ONES!”

Sehun's jaw dropped and his hands stopped moving. Luckily, Sooyoung recovered a lot faster than him and reassured Zitao the new drinks were already on the way (a complete lie, Sehun was standing stiff as a statue). Zitao wasn't even looking at her; he was looking deadpan at Jongin, who was pouting back at him and shooting daggers from his eyes.

Then the dull blow of an elbow to his ribs made Sehun jump, and he quickly got to work on the drinks one more time.

He still wasn't sure what had just happened, but he _was_ sure Jongin's stupid whining was to blame. Scowling in his general direction, Sehun flung the ice into the tin noisily. Shaking the shaker had never been easier than when he imagined he was grabbing and shaking Jongin instead.

After Sooyoung served the fresh drinks, she brought back the old ones on a tray, and Sehun couldn't help but touch them briefly. He wasn't even surprised when he found the cocktail ice-cold and the coffee nice and toasty.

Only three and a half more days.

To Sehun's astonishment and endless relief, Jongin quieted down in those last few days. He looked sulkier than ever, but Sehun barely heard a word from him. He often saw Jongin with a book in his hands now, so maybe he had taken up a new hobby. As long as it kept him from whining about anything and everything, Sehun wasn't going to complain.

Perhaps it could have ended peacefully.

It looked like it would, too — on the final day of Kim Jongin's stay, Sehun cheerfully counted down the last minutes of his shift, high-fived Jongdae when he arrived to take over from him, and chatted with him for a bit. At around six pm, Sehun decided it was time to change out of his uniform. He'd already made up his mind to exit through the café today to take a walk down the beach and perhaps get a cocktail or some ice cream on the way through.

However, before he could leave the lobby, he saw something that made his heart sink to his feet: Kim Jongin rushing in from the café, the front of his white Gucci shirt soaked and dripping with red. Sehun barely had time to blink before Jongin disappeared through the door to the staircase.

“Uh-oh,” Jongdae said. It was an apt summary of Sehun's state of mind.

“I'll go check it out,” he murmured and hurried toward the café, changing clothes and ice cream forgotten.

He found the café in chaos. Guests where chatting and whispering, the queue went out onto the porch again, Sooyoung stood behind the counter with a much too bright smile on her face, jotting down orders while casting nervous glances off to the side, where Junmyeon was slumped over the counter with his head between his arms.

Sehun slinked behind the counter and patted Junmyeon's back carefully. “Hey, you okay?”

The look in Junmyeon's eyes as he raised his head was one of deepest despair. “Sehun,” he croaked, “I've doomed us all.”

The first thing Sehun did was usher Junmyeon out of the café and into the managers' office, passing a concerned-looking Jongdae on the way. Joohyun was in the office, and she welcomed them with a wide-eyed stare and a confused “What?”

Sehun sat Junmyeon down in his chair and remained standing next to it to pat his back some more.

“What happened?” Sehun and Joohyun chorused.

Junmyeon interrupted his mantra of “I ruined everything” and “I'm such an idiot” to tell them the story.

“I was passing through the café. There were so many customers, poor Sooyoung was so busy — I would have sent you over, Sehun, but I knew you were almost finished for the day. So I thought I'd assist her myself.”

“Oh dear,” Joohyun muttered, and a sinking feeling took hold of Sehun's stomach.

“I helped her distribute the orders. Kim Jongin ordered a glass of red wine, so I brought it to him, and, and… of all the people I could have spilled drinks on…”

Sehun and Joohyun gasped in unison, and Junmyeon broke off. He looked like he was about to cry.

“I wanted to fix it somehow,” he eventually continued, “but he just stormed off before I could do anything. What am I going to do?”

“First of all, pull yourself together,” said Joohyun, gently but firmly, and Sehun wanted to hug her. “We are going to make a gift basket for him and attach a note saying we apologize and will compensate him appropriately. Then we'll bring it up to his room and sort things out. How does that sound?”

Junmyeon took a deep breath. Then he nodded. “Okay. That sounds like a great idea. Let's get started on the basket straightaway.”

Joohyun made a list of what they were going to put inside. Sehun took out his phone and looked up the prices of Gucci shirts. He quickly put the phone back in his pocket and kept his mouth shut.

In the end, Joohyun went to fetch a bottle of red wine while Sehun rushed to the nearby convenience store to buy some fruit and chocolates. He even plucked a few flowers from a hill on the way back. Junmyeon had dug up a pretty, white basket from somewhere (Sehun suspected he'd stolen it from the kitchen), and they arranged it until Junmyeon was satisfied.

“Wonderful — I'll bring this up to his room myself. Sehun, please go and get changed already, you've done enough for today. Thank you for your trouble.”

Sehun went and changed. Slowly.

He had put on his shorts and just finished unbuttoning his shirt when he heard the door to the managers' office open, and hastily threw his own shirt on before scurrying out of the room and peeking into the office.

Junmyeon had his head in his arms again, this time sagged over his own desk, Joohyun sitting next to him. The gift basket sat on the tabletop.

“He was there but didn't open the door,” Joohyun told Sehun quietly. “I suppose we'll just give it to him tomorrow when he checks out.”

A gurgling sound came from between Junmyeon's arms. “He had so many bags when he arrived, I don't think he wants to carry a basket with him. I'll just be there early tomorrow and talk to him about compensation. Maybe give him a small gift.”

Joohyun took a bar of chocolate from the basket and set it aside. “It's going to be fine.”

“Sehun,” came Junmyeon's muffled voice, “go and rest. You woke up early today.”

Sehun frowned. Yes, he had woken up early. Yes, he was tired and his legs were sore. And if anything, it only enhanced the unfairness of everything that made his blood boil and his stomach seethe. He hated seeing Junmyeon like this, even if he was overdramatic. He and Joohyun had done so much for Sehun, and they always worked so hard. And now, not even Joohyun was able to make Junmyeon feel better, all because of some stupid, spoiled Gucci boy who had nothing better to do than making everyone around him miserable. He had never even given the Summer Magic a chance.

Sehun abruptly went and grabbed the gift basket. “You won't need this anymore, right?”

Joohyun shook her head. “Ah, no. You can have it. You deserve a reward for your hard work.”

He flashed her a crooked smile. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

With that, he left the two, Junmyeon still with his head between his arms. An antsy Jongdae welcomed him to the lobby.

“Sehun, I heard from Sooyoung— what's that?”

He was eyeing the gift basket in Sehun's arms.

Sehun clutched it tighter. “I'll tell you later,” he said grimly.

Maybe he was about to fly too close to the sun, but he didn't care. He would fly straight into it if he had to. He would make sure Kim Jongin gave them a chance — if he had to throw the pretty basket in his stupid, pretty face.


	3. Following Up

Sehun knocked vigorously on the door with the number 94, determined to— do something. He honestly hadn't planned his visit in too much detail. Of course, he couldn't actually throw around baskets.

First of all, the door had to be opened. Sehun was more stubborn than Junmyeon, so he was fairly positive that was achievable somehow. Should he work out exactly what to say once it happened? His mind was still split on whether he should threaten or beg Jongin to accept their apology gift or, if both, in which order. He was just scowling at the idea of begging that man for anything when the door suddenly opened.

He ended up neither threatening nor begging.

Kim Jongin was standing in the door frame, barefoot, in comfortable-looking Gucci shorts and a crop top that read “Gucci sexiness” and perfectly matched the color of the baby pink towel on his head. A small fuzz of hair was peeking out from under the towel, and his eyes were wide and surprised — maybe Jongdae had been onto something with the puppy comparison. Jongin didn't look nearly as angry as Sehun had expected. But that would probably come once the shock effect had worn off. Sehun realized he was still scowling and quickly raised his eyebrows to smooth out his brow.

“Good evening,” he said. This was as far as he'd gotten with his planning.

“Good evening.”

Jongin still looked confused. Sehun suddenly remembered he wasn't wearing his uniform. He cleared his throat.

“Uh— I work here.”

And then Kim Jongin did something Sehun had not been prepared for at all: he smiled.

Sehun had never seen him smile before. It dimpled one of Jongin's cheeks and made his eyes scrunch up and sparkle somewhere between shy and sly, lighting up his whole face. His teeth were bright and immaculate.

“I know.”

Sehun's voice needed a moment before he could safely use it again, and so he took the opportunity to hold out the gift basket with both hands and a slight bow.

“For me?” Jongin asked.

“Yes.” Sehun was glad to find his vocal cords obeyed him. “It's an apology on behalf of the hotel for the inconvenience we caused you today. I'm bringing it here instead of our manager, since he was unsuccessful when he tried delivering it earlier.”

“Oh no, I must have been in the bathtub,” said Jongin, and he actually sounded regretful. “I was reading and listening to music, so I wouldn't have heard if he knocked…”

He took the basket, and Sehun straightened back up. There was a smile on Jongin's face as he examined the content.

“What a pretty basket,” he said. “I like the flowers.”

The sight of Jongin smiling was still tripping Sehun up. His voice was different too — much lower and softer than what Sehun knew from him. Not to mention he had just said something positive.

“It's nothing,” Sehun murmured. “We ruined a shirt of yours, after all.”

There was a light scent of something sweet and fresh in the air, and he figured it had to come from Jongin. It was a pleasant smell.

Jongin shrugged, toying with a yellow flower. “It's all right. Tao — my friend who travels with me — he's an expert at removing stains. He's been there, you know, so he has something like an emergency kit. I ran over right after it happened, 'cause you have to be quick with it, and he got most of it out. The shirt's still fine as a pajama shirt.”

“That's a very expensive pajama shirt,” Sehun said without thinking, and Jongin laughed.

If Sehun had guessed what Jongin's laugh sounded like before hearing it, he would have imagined something nasty and obnoxious — certainly not the warm, hearty chuckle that came from Jongin's mouth now. He was still smiling and looking Sehun directly in the eyes, leaned up against the door frame, feet crossed elegantly.

Sehun's mind was in disarray. He didn't know how to cope with this. He'd expected to be yelled or at least viciously whined at and was instead confronted with something meek and sweet and… flirty? There was no way, but was Kim Jongin _flirting_ with him?

Sehun had to straighten his brow because he'd frowned again, in confusion this time.

“Is there anything else you wanted?” Jongin asked.

A rush of panic washed through Sehun. The question was easy to interpret as an advance, especially with that quirk of Jongin's eyebrow, but he might just as well be trying to get rid of Sehun. He would have liked to stay longer and figure out the riddle of the strangely personable man in front of him; however, he couldn't afford to risk it.

“Just to thank you and to wish you a good night, sir,” he replied with another bow.

“Oh, just call me Jongin. There's no need to speak so formally when you're off duty. You are, right?”

Maybe Sehun would stay a bit longer after all, because that had sounded a lot like flirting. His heart was starting to flutter in his chest.

“Yeah, I'm off duty… I just wanted to make sure you got this.” He gestured to the basket.

“That's sweet.”

Jongin was looking at him with that dark smolder in his eyes Sehun had seen once already. This time, Sehun was definitely losing.

“Would you like a glass?” Jongin tapped a finger to the top of the wine bottle in the basket. “As thanks for the extra effort?”

Sehun swallowed against his dry throat. He was trying to come up with something, but he was running out of alternative explanations to the one that Jongin was indeed hitting on him. He still had no clue what that meant or how the person he had come to know as Kim Jongin fit together with the person standing in front of him — possibilities included twin siblings and evil clones. Still, Sehun _was_ off duty. His throat was awfully dry; something to drink sounded like a great idea.

“Sure,” he croaked.

The room smelled sweet and fruity, perhaps because of the bath Jongin had taken earlier. Sehun slipped off his shoes and padded after Jongin, who was already placing the basket on the small counter at the front of the room. The balcony door had a gorgeous view right on the steadily rolling sea. The sun was setting outside, painting the white of the curtains and bed sheets in flaming orange and giving everything a warm, gentle glow. Most of Jongin's personal items appeared to have already been packed in the cluster of extravagant bags in the corner of the room.

Jongin walked over to the desk opposite the bed and took a book and a deodorant from the desk chair, then patted the backrest.

“Sit down.”

Sehun sat down and watched Jongin fetch two glasses from the cabinet in the counter and open the wine bottle. After pouring the wine, he rubbed the towel over his head and then took it off. Sehun couldn't help admiring with a dash of envy how Jongin's damp hair looked messy in the most flawless way possible.

“Sehun, isn't it?”

His stomach did a surprised flip. “Oh. Yeah.”

Jongin grinned. “I saw your name tag the other day.”

Jongin glowed as well, Sehun noticed as he came over, handing him a glass and settling down on the edge of the bed. The tone of his hair matched well with the warm sunlight. His smile, meanwhile, completely outshone it.

“Cheers.” Sehun lifted his glass half-heartedly. Jongin mirrored him. They drank at the same time, and Sehun relished the fruity silkiness that coated his throat.

“Not bad,” Jongin said.

Sehun had to restrain himself from gaping at him — another positive statement from Kim Jongin's lips. Maybe he did have a mean twin.

“So how do you like the island?” Sehun asked quickly in order to avoid an awkward silence or saying anything dumb.

Jongin gave a small sigh and took another drink. “To be honest, I haven't seen much of it. We pretty much stayed at the hotel the whole time, except for going to the nearest restaurant for food. I wish I could have seen a few more scenic spots.”

“Why didn't you go and visit a couple? The island is pretty small, but there are some nice places. People say it's like a mini Jeju.”

“Well, it wasn't my call to make. I didn't exactly choose this place.” Jongin was twisting the glass around in his fingers, making the wine inside swish back and forth. “I guess I prefer places that have lots of sightseeing and partying opportunities. The thing is, I travel with my friend, Tao, right? And he's kind of sick of big cities, I guess 'cause that's what he's used to. He's a fan of vacationing in the most remote and idyllic places and doing absolutely nothing. I picked Qingdao in China as our vacation spot before this, and then it was his turn and we ended up coming here.”

That at least explained why Jongin hadn't been happy here, Sehun thought. “I see. So you were bored?”

“I mean, yeah. Not always though. I found a way to pass the time.”

Jongin giggled when Sehun raised his eyebrows questioningly. “It's kind of a funny story, actually. So we went to Qingdao, right? I got to call the shots there, and, well… maybe I went a bit overboard. I dragged Tao to tons of temples and museums and clubs, and I know he doesn't love that. But he knew he'd get to choose where we went after Qingdao, and he knew we'd do whatever he wants then — but he was still being such a diva the entire time. He kept yammering and whining how stupid everything was and how he wanted to take a break, go somewhere else, whatever.”

Sehun perked up. That sounded awfully familiar.

“Basically, he kept trying to ruin the trip for me if he didn't get what he wanted. Then we got here, and he started bossing me around and insisted we weren't gonna leave this hotel at all. So I got back at him by getting on his nerves as much as he got on mine in Qingdao. You know, complaining about anything I could think of, hounding him to go out, stuff like that. It was pretty fun. The only problem was that he knew what I was doing, so it didn't always work that great. I sort of expected him not to give in with the sightseeing, but he just flat-out ignored me most of the time. That's where it did get a bit boring.”

A hint of the whiny tone Sehun knew too well sneaked into Jongin's voice, and a pout puffed up his full lips even more. For a moment, Sehun's brain was entirely unhelpful, as all it could come up with was the word _cute_.

Then other thoughts started to trickle in there again.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “You mean you didn't actually—“ He interrupted himself, struggling for a neutral way to say _hate everything about this hotel_. “What did you think of the Summer Magic?” he finally asked.

“It's nice. Why?”

Sehun faltered once more; this was quite sensational news. “Uh, I mean… it doesn't really seem like it's up to your standards.”

Jongin laughed. “I haven't always stayed at five-star hotels, you know? I think this place is cute.”

Junmyeon would weep for joy. Sehun couldn't even regret the time they had wasted worrying about this, his heart was too light and his head too giddy. He took a generous drink from his glass and laughed as well. “And here everyone was tripping over themselves trying to please you and freaking out 'cause we thought you didn't like the place.”

Jongin blinked. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, Jun— the manager was tearing his hair out 'cause he thought you were gonna give us a one-star Google review.”

The wide-eyed puppy look was back on Jongin's face, this time with his eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. “I wasn't planning to,” he said quietly.

Sehun wondered if he'd been too straightforward. He scratched his ear sheepishly. “I'll tell him.”

The worry didn't fade from Jongin's eyes. They were actually quite gentle, Sehun found the more he looked at them. “So… you heard the stuff I said to Tao?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Jongin glanced down at his own wine glass. “I didn't know that.”

Sehun suddenly felt like he'd done something he shouldn't have. He had admittedly paid more attention than necessary to Jongin after overhearing his conversation with Zitao for the first time; or even after seeing him for the first time. And he had probably played a part in drawing everyone's attention to Jongin too.

“I mean, I guess I got to Tao in the end after all,” said Jongin. The red liquid swished, back and forth. “'Cause he started playing dirty. Like, he was making scenes and involving the staff to mess with me, so I stopped. But I didn't think… I mean, before that…”

A new and alien desire overcame Sehun — the desire to reassure Jongin. “Hey. Stuff like that happens a lot in hotels.”

Jongin was silent for a few moments, lips pressed together. His grip around the glass had tightened.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly.

There they were, words Sehun would have triumphantly gloated over an hour ago. They didn't feel like a victory at all now.

“N-no, it's okay,” he quickly assured. “It's all cleared up now. You didn't do it on purpose. And maybe we were listening to you guys a bit too closely… sorry about that as well.”

Jongin put him off with a wave of his hand. He still looked unsure and a little deflated; Sehun had much preferred the flirty smile on him.

“So— why do you guys even go on vacation together to places one of you hates?” he asked to distract Jongin. “That doesn't sound fun at all.”

A corner of Jongin's mouth quirked up. “We have lots of fun, actually. We annoy each other to death sometimes, but that can be fun too. He's good competition.”

Sehun wasn't sure he understood, but he nodded politely.

“A while back, we were super busy. We ended up booking this amazing campaign, and then we told ourselves if this goes well too, we'll reward ourselves with a month off and each of us gets to choose a vacation spot. That's how we ended up here.”

Sehun definitely hadn't followed this time. “Campaign?”

“It was a good one.” Jongin's face brightened again as he spoke. “A Gucci summer campaign. The stuff we got to wear was insane.”

“So you _are_ a model.”

Jongin's eyes flashed, and he gave Sehun a breathtaking smirk. “Yeah.”

Feeling as though he had revealed too much of himself, Sehun blushed. He did his best to play it off. “That's cool. Like, on runways and stuff?”

“Tao and I are fashion models, but we do runway as well. We actually met at a Gucci runway, back when I was 18.”

“Wow,” Sehun muttered. “You've been doing that for a while, then.”

Jongin nodded. “Mhm. What about you? Is this a part-time job or do you always work here?”

“I've worked here for years. Started almost right after finishing school.”

The look Jongin gave him was more impressed than Sehun thought was necessary for his career path. “It seems like such a stressful job.”

“It's not too bad. The place isn't that big, so things are kind of relaxed and I get to do lots of different stuff. I really like it. The shifts are long, but I got used to it.”

“I see. Are you tired?”

“Yeah,” Sehun said and instantly winced at how much that had sounded as if he was about to excuse himself and leave. “Like, my legs are tired from running around all day — the wine is helping though,” he added hastily and took a sip for emphasis.

“Do you want to come to bed?”

It took all of Sehun's willpower not to cough and spit the wine all over Jongin. Jongin in his pink crop top, outlines of muscles on his stomach visible even as it was relaxed, moving with his breaths like gentle waves, his shorts riding up his toned thighs, his face open and soft in the evening sun. Sehun swallowed down the wine and put the glass on the desk.

His heart was hammering against his ribs as he got up and stepped forward. There was no guarantee he wouldn't catch fire if he moved any closer.

He also had no idea what Jongin expected him to do. The safest option would be sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed — but he couldn't. Jongin's hands, wine glass in one, were placed firmly beside himself on the mattress, taking up any space where Sehun could have sat. There was a playful glint in Jongin's eyes as he looked up at Sehun, who frowned back at him irresolutely. Jongin slid further back on the bed, propped up on his elbows, and his legs spread open wide, leaving an expanse of unoccupied bed sheet between them.

Sehun's breath hitched, and for a few seconds, he could only stare. Then he carefully planted a knee in between Jongin's thighs and leaned forward. If there had been any doubt left, it evaporated the moment Jongin reached out to grab him by the neck and pull him down into a kiss.

His lips were so plush and soft. Sehun had never experienced anything that was this tender and this sensual at the same time. Jongin was kissing him slowly, often lingering and savoring the touch. He wasn't even using his tongue, and yet he managed to make Sehun's head spin and his groin throb. Only the possibility of another mishap involving wine kept him from forgetting that Jongin was still holding his glass in one hand.

Searching for more stability, his knee moved forward on the bed. It brushed against something, and Jongin moaned softly against Sehun's lips. Sehun shivered at the sound of it, and then Jongin shifted and started rubbing up against Sehun's thigh.

A rush of heat went straight to Sehun's dick. He pushed down his leg against Jongin's crotch to give him more friction. With a gasp, Jongin broke off the kiss.

“Can you put this somewhere?” he breathed, holding up the wine glass.

Sehun grabbed it and placed it next to the bed on the floor as fast as possible. When he came back up, Jongin's shirt was gone and his chest bare. The silver ring on his nipple caught the orange glint of the sun. He kissed Sehun again, with tongue this time, pulling him close with both arms wrapped around his back. Jongin tasted like wine and summer. Sehun couldn't believe he was kissing someone this sweet and beautiful.

After a few minutes of making out and rubbing their crotches together, his pants were getting uncomfortable. Jongin's had to be as well, from what Sehun felt pressed up against him.

“Do you wear Gucci underwear too?” he asked between kisses. Jongin drew back, smirking.

“Who says I'm wearing underwear?”

“Uh…” Sehun had no answer for that except a twitch of his dick.

“You can take a look if you want.”

Of course he wanted. He straightened in order to unbutton and unzip Jongin's shorts. Jongin lifted his hips off the bed helpfully, and Sehun pulled the shorts down with bated breath.

He snorted, and Jongin started to giggle, bubbly and high-pitched.

“Nice color,” Sehun said and hooked a finger under the waistband with the Gucci logo on it.

“Thanks.”

The light blue of the boxer briefs looked good against Jongin's dark skin. His cock straining against the fabric only made the sight prettier.

Sehun's hands brushed down Jongin's thighs, and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't noticed until now that Jongin's legs were shaved. Unable to help himself, Sehun rubbed and caressed, marveling at the smoothness of the skin under his fingers, squeezed at the thick thighs and the firm calves.

Jongin's breathing was quick and uneven by the time Sehun moved to press kisses to his stomach, brushing his lips along where the glow of the evening light warmed the sun-kissed skin. Jongin smelled so good, fresh and summery, like peach and watermelon. Hopefully, he didn't mind that Sehun didn't smell as clean as he had after his morning shower.

When Sehun leaned up for another kiss, their chests pressed against each other, and suddenly Jongin flinched.

“Stop, don't move,” he hissed, and Sehun froze. Jongin fumbled with something on Sehun's shirt, then he breathed out a sigh and relaxed back into the sheets. “My piercing got caught in your button,” he explained and made a face. “Oww, that hurt.”

Jongin's pout made Sehun's chest tighten with the desire to coo and kiss it better. Jongin gasped as Sehun pressed his lips delicately to his pierced nipple, and when Sehun brushed his tongue over it, Jongin's hands clenched into fists on Sehun's shoulders. So encouraged, Sehun went on, switching between tender licks and kisses that had Jongin rolling up his hips against Sehun's body.

“Any specific reason you only have one?” Sehun nudged the small metal ring up with his tongue.

“Ngh… yeah, m-my nipples are kinda sensitive— _ah_!”

Sehun stopped sucking on the piercing for a moment to give Jongin a grin. “You don't say.”

Jongin pouted again, which earned him another couple of kisses. “Anyway, I wanted them pierced so badly. But— _ohh_ … when they did this one, it hurt a lot more than I thought. Like, I could barely stand it. And my left nipple is much more sensitive. So I settled for one.”

A thrill of excitement buzzed through Sehun. He had Jongin this worked up by only playing with his nipple for a bit — and it wasn't even the most sensitive one? He licked and kissed some more, running his tongue over the piercing and pressing his lips against it until Jongin's breaths came fast and shallow; then he let up. Before Jongin could react, Sehun closed his lips around his left nipple and sucked hard.

Jongin yelped. His hips bucked and his back arched, pressing into the touch. Sehun caught him around the waist with one arm and held him up, the fingers of his other hand rubbing gently across the pierced nipple. Jongin was clinging to Sehun's shirt, his whole body shaking and writhing.

It appeared Sehun had been reconditioned at some point; Jongin was whining — soft, high-pitched noises muffled at the back of his throat — and Sehun thought they were the prettiest sounds. In fact, he pulled out all the stops to coax out some more — licking, sucking, even the occasional brush of teeth.

Finally, he withdrew and let Jongin sink back onto the bed. His nipples were a bit red now, even where the orange sunlight didn't touch them.

“You okay?” Sehun asked.

Jongin nodded, still panting as he looked up at him from half-closed eyes. “Yeah. Wow. That was good.”

Sehun was burning up in his shirt, and so he quickly opened a few buttons and pulled it over his head. He heard an appreciative noise from Jongin halfway. Then he got stuck. When he managed to struggle out of it, Jongin was still eyeing his abs, and Sehun couldn't help but be a little proud. He scowled at his shirt as he tossed it to the side.

“Your frown is so hot,” Jongin mumbled, and Sehun turned to him in surprise. “I love it when you glare like that.”

“Oh.” _Oh_. So maybe he didn't have to feel too bad about all the times he'd glared at Jongin. “Thanks?”

His gaze flitted to Jongin's crotch. The blue was tinted dark with precum where the tip of his cock was outlined against his underwear.

Apparently, Jongin had caught on where he was looking, because he huffed and poked the soaked fabric with a finger. “Are you planning to ruin all of my clothes?”

The whiny edge to his voice was softened by the mirth on his face. Sehun grinned.

“You could always ask your friend about stain removal.”

Jongin laughed, then grimaced. “Ew, no. It'll be fine.”

He pulled off his underwear, revealing his flushed erection and a batch of short, dark hair trimmed neatly into a V-shape.

Sehun squeezed Jongin's thighs again. “So… condoms?”

“Yeah,” Jongin said, his appraising gaze fixed somewhere below Sehun's waistline. “In my bag. I have all kinds of sizes, there should be something that fits you.”

Sehun's face was hot as he slipped off the bed. “I got it.”

This was happening, then.

Finding the condoms, however, proved to be quite the challenge. “Wait, which bag?” he asked, examining the pile in the corner of the room for clues.

“My regular shoulder bag. The small one. On top. Yeah, up and to the right. No, the _shoulder_ bag.”

It took some directing from Jongin, who seemed to enjoy himself, but eventually Sehun discovered an impressive stack of condoms as well as a bottle of lube in a brown-patterned Gucci bag. He picked a condom that looked like it would fit, chucked it on the bed together with the lube, and took the opportunity to rid himself of his remaining clothes before following.

Jongin reached out and ruffled Sehun's curly pubic hair, giggling. “Cute!”

A little flustered, Sehun settled on his stomach in between Jongin's legs. Jongin was down to half-hard at this point. As Sehun scooted closer, Jongin draped a leg over Sehun's shoulder, giving him easy access. He was shaved down there too.

Sehun's heart was racing again. He poured out some lube and rubbed his slick fingers over Jongin's puckered hole. The leg on Sehun's shoulder tensed, and he turned his head to press kisses along the smooth inner thigh until it relaxed again. Then he pushed his index finger inside.

Jongin was breathing evenly as Sehun fingered him open, slow and gentle. The occasional whimper escaped him, mostly whenever Sehun kissed and sucked lightly at the sensitive skin of Jongin's inner thigh or his fingers brushed over the bump of Jongin's prostate.

“H-hey,” Jongin whispered at the third finger.

“What's up?” Sehun murmured against Jongin's thigh.

“I just wanted to… there's something I like. During sex?”

Sehun twisted his fingers and pushed in deeper, eliciting a shudder from Jongin. “What is it?”

“You don't have to do it. But I like when the person fucking me acts all cool about it, a-as if they're not affected at all. Mmh… like, stoic and aloof and all that.”

That sounded doable. Sehun wasn't too vocal in bed anyway, so acting stoic would be easy enough.

“Okay. Sure, I can do that.”

Jongin's hole clenched around Sehun's fingers. “Okay. I think I'm good to go now. You?”

“Yeah.”

Having Jongin take his fingers this pliantly had gotten Sehun rock-hard in no time. He pulled them out and straightened to put on the condom and more lube.

The sunlight was dimmer now, more red than orange. Jongin looked stunning spread out before him. His dick lay across his stomach, not fully hard but flushed and glistening at the tip. His face, also flushed, was slack and relaxed. Sehun lined up and pressed inside.

Jongin's face scrunched up, but he didn't tense. Sehun had to will himself not to make a sound as the hot tightness swallowed up his dick, inch by inch. Whenever Jongin winced or hissed, Sehun paused to let him adjust.

Once he was completely buried inside him, Sehun gently rubbed Jongin's thighs and waited until he gave him the okay to move. He did eventually by slipping his strong legs around Sehun's waist and using their leverage to push up his hips. Sehun gasped and rocked forward, and then he was thrusting, slow and steady, and almost let out a moan at how good it was.

He quickly realized this wouldn't be as easy as he'd thought. Of course, he was well aware Jongin was hot, and he had expected him to be good in bed. He hadn't expected Jongin to put on a whole show.

He probably should have.

Jongin was clenching his teeth, biting his lip, furrowing his brow, arching his back, and tossing his head back, mouth slack with pleasure; his hands were either busy rubbing his own nipples or clutching at the sheets, and he was gasping and moaning pornographically and loud enough that Sehun wondered if the walls would cover it. He couldn't find it in himself to care though, not with how his cock was pulsing and throbbing and how tightly Jongin clenched around him.

Being stoic became harder by the second when Sehun's mind was barely able to function anymore and filled with nothing but _fuck fuck fuck, he's so hot_. However, he wanted to give Jongin what he liked; he wanted to please him. And so Sehun gritted his teeth and kept his expression as blank as he could while continuing to thrust steadily into him.

Despite the air conditioning, the room was stifling hot. Soon, Sehun was sweating and the exhaustion of the day was becoming apparent. His legs were shaking, and his rhythm wasn't as consistent anymore. As much as he wanted to keep up the pace, his dwindling stamina didn't allow him to.

Jongin put a hand to Sehun's chest, making him halt.

“You're tired, hm?” he whispered and brushed the hair from Sehun's sweaty forehead. “You worked hard. Let me take over.”

The prospect of Jongin taking full control was as enthralling as it was terrifying, but Sehun didn't have much of a choice. His legs were close to giving out from underneath him; they trembled when he pulled out carefully. Jongin sat up for a brief, wet kiss, then he pushed Sehun backwards onto the bed.

His movements were sultry and elegant as he gripped Sehun's cock and sank down on it. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open, and he gave a breathy moan that all but did Sehun in on top of the sensation of Jongin's tight, slick hole around his dick.

It was as bad as Sehun had feared. Jongin rolled and ground his hips with power and precision, and to make matters worse, he added licking his lips and moaning Sehun's name to the program. He was ethereal as he towered above Sehun, bathed in the dim, fading flames of daylight, skin glistening with sweat. His cock bounced softly with every thrust, fully hard again.

Sehun was dizzy with pleasure. He knew he was frowning and clenching his jaw, but that was about the only expression he was capable of that wasn't blissed out of his mind. Then he remembered in a haze what Jongin had said about his frown and figured he would be okay with it.

The much bigger problem was that Sehun wasn't going to last. His cock was throbbing so hotly it hurt, twitching whenever Jongin moaned or pulled another sexy face. Every sensual swivel and thrust of Jongin's hips brought Sehun closer to the edge.

“Sehun,” Jongin whined, pressing his hips down firmly and shifting back and forth. “So good.”

 _Fuck_. Sehun had to make him come, and fast.

Without thinking, he reached out to pinch Jongin's unpierced nipple between two fingers. Jongin hissed and slammed his hips downward, which almost made Sehun come with the sudden intensity of it. Sehun continued pinching and rubbing gently, and Jongin whimpered. His hand flew to his own dick and he started stroking himself as he leaned into the touch, hips twitching and swiveling in small circles. Seconds later, his eyes rolled back in his head and his cock painted his stomach with his release.

Sehun breathed out a sigh of relief that instantly got stuck in his throat when Jongin squeezed around him, clenching and unclenching erratically. He couldn't help it, his face contorted and a pathetic mewl escaped him. There was no bringing back the cool facade, it was too hot and too tight and too much.

He heard a laugh, and then Jongin was pressing his lips against Sehun's and grinding down his hips. Sehun groaned and gripped Jongin's thighs, feeling them work in his hands, and let Jongin lick into his mouth.

It didn't take long. Sehun was already close, and an especially sinful swivel of Jongin's hips tipped him over. Heat rushed through his groin, through his dick, making it twitch inside Jongin, and Sehun gasped against Jongin's lips as his orgasm washed through his body in a burning wave.

Jongin didn't stop kissing him, even during the interval where Sehun was still caught up in the aftermath and didn't respond at all. He kissed back as soon as he remembered how to move. It was lazy and a bit sloppy, but Jongin didn't seem to mind.

After some time, however, the heat became stifling and the stickiness uncomfortable. With some effort, Sehun brought himself to withdraw from the kiss. His pulse had already eased down, but the warm smile Jongin gave him made it quicken again.

“You want the first shower?” he asked and petted Sehun's sweaty cheek. “I think I'll need another moment before I can get up.”

Sehun wasn't certain he could get up either. “Sure.”

Jongin peeled himself off of him, Sehun's softened dick slipping out with a faint squelch. Sehun quickly took the condom off and tied it. Then he dragged himself off the bed, almost stepping on Jongin's wine glass, and staggered into the bathroom.

One quick shower with a watermelon-scented body wash later, he let Jongin know it was his turn. Sehun pulled on his boxers before flopping face-down onto the bed. A balmy breeze blew in from the balcony door. Jongin had probably opened it while Sehun was in the shower. He hoped it hadn't been open before that, or they might get a noise complaint. He couldn't remember it being open at least. Although they might still get a noise complaint. He was sore all over. Was he even lying down at all? His feet didn't feel like he was. Came with the job, he supposed.

He only realized he'd fallen half asleep when the bed shook and dipped and he lifted his head from the pillows groggily. Jongin was settling down beside him, stark naked, the gift basket in his hands.

“I'm hungry,” he said. “Want some?”

Sehun grunted and rolled onto his back. “Yeah. I need sugar.”

“There you go.”

To his surprise, Jongin thrust the box of chocolates into his hand before taking a generous bite from a peach.

“You shouldn't trust me with this,” Sehun warned him, propping himself up against a pillow. “I can't promise there'll be any left once I start.”

Jongin shrugged. “That's fine. I was gonna stick to fruit anyway.”

“Seriously? These are really good.”

With a sigh, Jongin let his head sink onto Sehun's shoulder. “I need to watch my figure, or my agent will kill me,” he mumbled. “And I already ate so much stuff I shouldn't have in this place. The peanut ice cream here is the devil.”

Sehun gave a sympathetic hum as he stuffed three chocolates into his mouth. “Being a model sounds rough.”

Jongin's fluffy hair tickled Sehun's skin.

“Have you considered modeling?” Jongin asked.

Sehun snorted and crammed in another two chocolates. “Nah.”

“Mhh, I can just picture you in a nice, sleek Armani suit, glaring like that…” Jongin giggled and snuggled closer, the side of his whole body pressed up against Sehun's. “To be honest, you caught my eye pretty fast. I really wanted to flirt with you, but I couldn't let Tao catch on, or he'd have leverage on me.”

Part of Sehun was amused, but at the same time the admission made his stomach tingle. “You guys take this stuff seriously, huh?”

“Would be boring if we didn't.” Jongin fished a few cherries from the basket. “Don't get me wrong, I did try. But there weren't many opportunities, and that one time I finally caught you alone, you just ran off. I get why now, of course, but it caught me off guard back then.”

Sehun frowned. “Wait, what? When?”

“You know, when my window was broken.”

“No way.” That day seemed far in the past, yet he remembered it vividly. He squinted his eyes as he thought back to it. “That was flirting?”

Jongin twisted his neck in an effort to pout at him. “Hey, I was gonna start subtle.”

“Ahh. Sorry for ruining your strategy.” Sehun patted Jongin's thigh, and Jongin snuggled back into him.

“It's fine. Like I said, I get it.”

Sehun ate another couple of chocolates. Half the box was empty now.

“You know, I think you really should have some fruit.”

He looked because Jongin's voice was suspiciously shaky, as if he was holding back laughter, and found he had put a cherry in his own bellybutton and was grinning up at Sehun expectantly. “It's healthy.”

Sehun rolled his eyes. He abruptly slid down on the bed to pick up the cherry with his teeth, then went back up and placed it between Jongin's lips, sealing them over it with a soft kiss.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I'll stick to the candy.”

Judging by the blush that colored Jongin's cheeks as he chewed, Sehun had actually managed to fluster him.

They finished almost the entire basket and both their glasses of wine. By the time they were finally sated, Sehun's eyelids were heavy again. Jongin put the basket away somewhere, and when he came back, his arm sneaked under Sehun's body and he pulled him close, spooning him. Except Sehun didn't feel like a small spoon; he felt as if a very warm and clingy koala bear had attached itself to him.

 _Cute_ , he thought.

He was facing the balcony door. The sun had long disappeared behind the horizon, but the moon shone brightly in its stead; it illuminated the palm trees and the sea, dyeing the multitude of blue shades of the water in silver and black. The waves rolled in time with Jongin's breaths against his neck. His mind eased into a deep state of calm, and his eyes fell shut.

Jongin nuzzled into his shoulder, and Sehun rubbed their legs together just to feel Jongin's smooth skin against his.

“This was definitely the highlight of my stay here,” Jongin mumbled.

The grunting noise Sehun made in response had been supposed to be a chuckle. “It's a nice place, actually.” He paused, struggling to put his thoughts into coherent sentences. “If you ever come here again, I can show you around the island. There's a cool tour. And I'll treat you to some peanut ice cream.”

“My agent will kill you.” Jongin's speech was slurred, his voice a quiet mewl. “First you and then me.”

The room had cooled down again, but Sehun's chest was oddly warm and mellow. Every now and then, a mild breeze came through the balcony door.

He drifted off to the constant hum of the air conditioner and Jongin's soft snores.

Sehun was woken up by something hard poking his butt. Even in his half-asleep state, he thought it was too hard to be a dick. Granted, morning wood could get pretty stiff, but this felt closer to actual wood.

“Good morning, rise and shine!” a voice lilted. He knew that voice. But what was it doing here?

“Buh?” Sehun forced his eyes open against the glaring brightness of daylight and saw a slightly blurry Minseok standing next to the bed with a broom in his hand.

A flash of panic made Sehun jolt upright, a thousand questions racing through his drowsy mind within the fraction of a second. Had he had sex with Minseok last night? He did remember having sex — but hadn't that been with Jongin? Of course, it was absurd enough to have been a dream and Jongin had been too good to be true, but he could have sworn… Then he halted. Minseok was wearing his uniform. And Sehun was in a hotel room, not in Minseok's.

Sehun let out a relieved breath, close to flopping back down onto the bed. So it had been Jongin after all.

“I don't want to rush you,” said Minseok, “but your shift starts in ten and I have to clean this room.”

Sehun's breath caught in his throat again. He was in a hotel room. A guest's room. _Shit_.

He jumped out of bed. He was only wearing boxers. _Shit, shit, shit_.

“Uhh, listen,” he stuttered, face burning as he collected his clothes from where they lay neatly folded on the desk (when had they gotten there?) and hastily slipped them on. “We only— I mean, I wasn't—“

“No worries.” Minseok sounded much too cheerful, considering the situation. “Oh, and don't forget this.”

Sehun interrupted his frantic attempts at buttoning up his shirt to take what Minseok was holding out to him. It was a small bundle of black fabric. He frowned. “But this isn't…“

He trailed off as he noticed something rustling inside the fabric. He unfolded it warily; then he gave a strangled laugh that sounded a lot like a panicked seagull.

Wrapped inside a fresh pair of Gucci briefs was a piece of paper carrying a phone number, an Instagram handle, a KakaoTalk ID, and an e-mail address.

Sehun decided to button up his shirt on the way downstairs and bolted out of the room.

“Where were you yesterday?” Jongdae shouted as Sehun hurried through the empty lobby. “Did you sneak past me or something? I didn't see you anymore at all, and I thought you wanted to tell me something!”

If he'd seen Sehun coming in from the staircase just now, he didn't mention it, which was great news. Sehun wasn't ready for everyone to know what he'd been up to.

“Overslept,” he called. “I'll explain later, I gotta change first and eat if I can find something.”

“Fine. Oh, Baekhyun and Sooyoung are in the back. They brought over some pastries they made to cheer up Manager Kim. You can probably snatch one if you go there now.”

Both the door to the staff room and the one to the managers' office were wide open. Sooyoung was standing in the door frame of the latter.

“Hey, there you are!” Her gaze traveled to his hand. “What's that?”

He stuffed the Gucci briefs into his pocket. “Nothing,” he mumbled and looked into the room.

“Welcome to the No More Gucci Party!” Baekhyun yelled, then immediately bowed to Joohyun when she gave an irritated huff from behind her computer.

“Sehun!” Junmyeon greeted him with a sunny smile. “I'm sorry about yesterday, I was feeling really down.”

“No worries. Are you better now?”

“Much.” He took a sip from his coffee cup and sighed. “I still can't believe that happened on the last day, but it seems to be all right.”

“It was strange, actually,” said Joohyun. “That man refused to let us pay for his shirt when he checked out earlier. I mean, that's good, I don't want to know how much that thing costs, but I was quite surprised after what everyone has been saying about him.”

“Me too,” said Junmyeon through a mouthful of pastry. “The oddest part was how cheerful he was. Friendly, even.”

“Probably glad to be out of here,” Baekhyun chimed in.

“He just wanted to be nice,” Sehun muttered, more to himself. He hadn't thought about how that would sound to the others.

The whole room looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, Junmyeon's pastry hovering midway between his mouth and plate, Baekhyun's jaw hanging open dumbly.

Sehun cleared his throat and shrugged. “I mean, maybe. Who knows, right?”

Baekhyun blinked and closed his mouth. “Um, yeah. Right.”

Sehun went to grab a pastry from the plate in front of Junmyeon in order to more easily ignore Joohyun's suspicious gaze. He should really go and change so he could start his shift in time. But that would mean having to face Jongdae, and Sehun still had no idea what he should tell him, or how much.

Everyone seemed so relieved Jongin was gone. Sehun understood; without the previous night, he would have been the same. Now, the thought made his chest tighten a little instead. He'd already forgotten what it was like to dislike Jongin. It was as though the distant memories of a different person whose feelings he didn't share had been implanted in his brain.

A shrill squeak from Joohyun shook him out of his reverie. She was gaping at something on her screen.

Baekhyun looked over her shoulder, and his jaw dropped open again. Then he screamed at the top of his lungs, “GUCCI GUY GAVE US A FIVE-STAR RATING!”

Sehun's heart skipped a beat. He heard Jongdae shriek from the lobby, and Junmyeon's plate clattered as he chucked his pastry away and almost tripped jumping out of his chair. Everyone rushed over to Joohyun, accompanied by Sooyoung's agitated splutters of “Which one? _That_ one?”

Sehun was squeezed in between Junmyeon and Sooyoung, but he had a good view over Baekhyun's head. Joohyun had Google Maps pulled up on her screen, and Sehun scanned the page with fluttering nerves until his eyes got caught on a familiar name. He blushed furiously.

Indeed, there was a review by Kim Jongin — five little, yellow stars and a text:

_Excellent customer service, 100% satisfied. Will come again! ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> I have a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/softraincloud)… you can message me there if you wanna get in touch :)


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